


Banditos

by Doom_days



Category: BLURRYFACE - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Jumpsuit - Twenty One Pilots (Music Video), Nico and the Niners - Twenty One Pilots (Music Video), Trench - Fandom, Trench - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Blurryface Era, DEMA (Twenty One Pilots), Escapism, Gen, I stayed up writing instead of sleeping, If you don't like Nico clap your hands, Jamming out to music, Jordan exists, Josh Dun is pure, Nico go away, Trench Era, Tyler getting his ass dragged back to Dema, Tyler is also the protagonist don't @ me, Tyler is sassy, Zoom memes, hi my name's procrastination, let our boys be happy, shipping but it's not a main focus, some saltiness, welcome to trench - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17453432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doom_days/pseuds/Doom_days
Summary: Five times he had tried. No avail. Five flowers had protected him from the true wrath, the terror of the bishops. It came to a point where he didn't know if this whole pursuit for freedom was worth it. What was he holding out hope for? A yellow haired Bandito?No, Tyler reminded himself, he was holding out hope for his life. For his freedom. For his family, Jenna and Josh. For those that had escaped before him and those that would escape thanks to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If some of you recognise this story, it's because I've also written it on Quotev. I recently started being active on this site and decided to share some of my works onto here. Go check my Q account when you can - it's where I post most my works and where the updates happen first ( my Q account is @LeaveTheCxty). I hope you enjoy!

### Flower 1

Tyler Robert Joseph.

That was the only thing that he knew was true in this place. The only thing that wasn't an illusion. The only thing that wasn't enshrouded in lies. It was the only thing the bishops didn't give him. His name. It was his name and his alone. No one could take that from him. Especially in this place, where the bishops took everything away. They even took away thought and difference. They replaced everything with misery and screaming voices. Metaphorically.

Dema was a place of Negativity. It was a prison riddled with depression that fed it's prisoners insecurities and loneliness. They drowned in voices of darkness. Never to be heard again. Their own voices were strangled in their own throat. Silence. It was a tower of silence. The nine bishops, the leaders, the top of the hierarchy. They endorsed it, the forced it, they ruled supreme with it, this unhealthy addiction of a religion called Vialism. Nico, Andre, Nills, Sacarver, Keons, Lisden, Listo, Vetomo and Reisdro were their names. They all governed a district each their own way. It was unfair but no one realised it. They had been stolen of opinion, of a sense of right and wrong. Of freedom. So they lived life unaware of the secrets contained in the grey walls that entrapped them in this village, working away without a hint or care in the world because they didn't truly know the world. Their world had been taken away.

When was the last time he saw the sun? That was right. On his way to Dema. The dark, bumpy ride that he shouldn't have seen. But he did see. He was in the backseat of it all, watching and helpless as a black hooded figure kept their eyes on the road. All logic and movement, all will to escape seemed to be tied up thanks to the seatbelt that kept him trapped in the car. It almost was as strong as the demotivation it carried with it. The ride itself wasn't exactly pleasent. Whomever was driving, bishop or citizen, obviously had no idea how to as they ended up crashing the car, bits and pieces flying everywhere. Wheels rolled into the snow filled banks, doors clattered against the black and white road, ash and smoke rose into the blue sky and to the beautiful mountain range painted horizon. Tyler was about to make a run for it when the figure, seemingly unharmed from the car breaking apart and setting alight. He stood in front of Tyler and all movement seemed to halt. He felt under pressure, like he was drowning under his emotions of fear. He couldn't breathe. Closing his eyes, he felt these symptoms weaken but not by much. Ice seemed to consume his joints. Tyler couldn't move. Paralysed. Like a fly in a spider's web

Before he knew it, he was being dragged by this figure. Dragged to a place that he didn't know. And before he knew it, sleep had clouded his vision. When he woke up he was in a foreign room that was illuminated by false light. The outside world was nothing but a canvas of grey. He had no personal belongings and the curtains were veils. It was his personal room and soon to be his personal hell. Where Demons wrote on walls and possessed all optimism.

They worshiped false light in Dema. The LED kind that was agonisingly bright unless it was in the middle of the night, but if you stared at it in the night it would only cause your vision to waver and every time you closed your eyelids, the light would still be burned into them. They were always arranged in odd shapes that Tyler didn't understand but felt he did in some way at the same time. These LEDS were all around Dema but they mainly surrounded these weird statues of someone he again, didn't know. His district was normally empty, he lived in Nico's. Typical, he always thought to himself, that he was stuck in the head bishops' district. The one bishop that took the imprisonment of the people in Dema seriously.

Hope was scarce. He saw that evident in people's features as he had lived life day to day in Dema. The walls were too tall to climb, it was wishful thinking. Escaping could never happen, such a feat seemed  impossible. The only thing he could do was suffer and die slowly as each day went by. He wrote songs, poems, diary entries just anything to keep him from sinking into the darkness. To vent out all the emotions this room contained as well as those that the bishops had thrown upon him, like a coat that stuck onto him. One that he couldn't tear off, because everytime he did, it felt like grasping water and watching it slip out of his hands.

 

Tyler Robert Joseph. He was the only person he could trust with his heart, body and mind. Because he was the only person he knew inside and out. He knew when he lied and when he told the truth.

 

But that all changed with the first day he ever saw colour.


	2. Flower 2

He had known Josh for nine years in Dema. The first time he had ever seen the other male was upon a mix up in arriving. Tyler had confused Josh's house for his and had to explain to the quite petrified and anxious looking other that he was lost. Josh didn't talk much, his deep brown eyes seemed glazed as if words were hidden behind a glass vault and would only be unlocked when suspicion had removed the knife from his head. They stood there for a few minutes as Tyler recalled muttering a quiet frantic apology and walking out, greeting the brunet a good day. Something in those words sparked a reaction, and seemed to disperse the glazed look; Josh had bid him a farewell and a good day too.  It was a first awkward encounter, but somehow the awkwardness was a lasting memory that provided cushions and warmth that allowed a slither of optimism to be freed from the tangled web of claws. Like a flower sprouting from the ashes of a burnt down forest.

After that the two seemed to meet with eachother more, as if they had been drawn to the small light they had opened up for eachother is this dark morose grave. Within those quick glances and small waves that had meaning but weren't really enough to illustrate the emotion, the two had found friendship. Josh was the first to introduce himself, walking over to Tyler in the emptying lunch hall ( the lack of people was often such a gift to Tyler. Sometimes he felt a bit claustrophobic around all these people that had blankets of thick black fog that suffocated their minds), and taking the empty seat in front of him. The eating male blinked, as if trying to take a picture and analyse all the features of Josh for the first time. Messy brown hair, dark brown eyes, fair skin. He seemed too confident and optimistic for a place like this.

" Hi." He started, scratching the back of his neck, " I'm Joshua. Joshua dun. I uh thought i should make some company whilst I'm stuck here." He tried to form an explanation without sounding too forthcoming, " and well you were at the top of my list to try..... Also the only one on my list" Josh grinned and tried lightening the mood, it obviously working as Tyler felt himself laugh for the first time in two weeks. Joy felt nice. Something in this Brunet's voice seemed to bring the situation of Dema at ease. As if it was a snowstorm that had been calmed by the sunlight.

" Tyler Joseph" He held out a hand and it was shaken, ", nice to meet you Josh"

The two had talked and then talked through out their working days. They talked about themselves, normal facts and interest, Things they disliked and both shared a burning hatred towards Bananas, they talked about Dema.

" So how did you get here?"

" Pretty much like you man, although I was shoved in the boot and locked in there until I got here."

They soon became insperable. Best friends.

" Did you know that the reason I wanted to be friends with you in the first place because you are the first ever person that told me to have a nice day?"

"Dude really?"

" Crazy I know right?"

Tyler had watched as the timid and solitude boy that he had met on the first day seemed to become a beacon of hope and happiness. Josh emitted confidence and selflessness like a lighthouse that seemed to slowly guide Tyler out of the dark demons that morphed him into the walls and the soil of Dema.

Tyler now waited for Josh, at the emptying lunch hall. It had become a regular schedule. They met up here everyday, normally as crowds of people piled to go home. Night in Dema got cold quickly, it was always best to be inside where it was warm. The two males somehow seemed immune to the harsh winds. Mainly it was because Tyler felt energised at the other's presence. Normally, it was quite a chaotic task of finding Josh, he was normally the late one. The crowd was a mixture of people with brown hair, blonde hair, close to brown but black hair. Josh, with hair that blended in, was no exception. Tyler often didn't know he was here until Josh stood right in front of him.

This time was an exception. As Tyler stood up from his chair, scanning through the crowds to see if maybe he could catch an impossible glimpse of his friend, he caught sight of something quite unexpected. So unnatural that Tyler himself had to blink then squint to see if his eyes weren't now failing him and had given in to deception. Yellow fluffy hair bobbed up and down in the crowd. It stood out, like the sun in the sky. It was so bright in contrast to the grey surrounding it, Tyler was sure he was going to go blind.

Josh sat down in the normal seat in front of him, grinning at Tyler with a twinkle of something quite indistinguishable. As Tyler sat as well, he couldn't tell if this unnatural spark, with the unnatural hair was an omen of things bad.

" Dude, you know the bishops will kill you if they see you" Tyler pointed out

" I know."

" Then why do it?"

" Tyler let me answer that question with another question. Do you remember what it was like outside?" Josh then asked with a daydream sort of expression on his face.

" I...." Tyler started before having to think. It had been nine years, everything in his memory seemed faded like black and white photos. He could remember the odd explosive memory that held a collage of colour and a jar of different senses and emotions, " sort of... Sunday rituals you know? It's hard to keep up. The amount of times they try to make me forget with the days days by"

" Well... I haven't forgotten," Josh smiled, " I never had. Even as i was shoved into that boot the day they came to take me, I never lost it in sight. Every waking moment I fantasize about being back out there again. And that's why I've decided"

" Josh where are you going with this? What have you decided?"

" We need to escape. To regain the freedom they took from us. To be in control of our memories. To be free from this prison where we are made to feel stuck and drowned Tyler,"  He held the other's shoulders. Tyler felt his worries defuse slightly. The optimism and hope of Josh was overpowering, despite how much Tyler disagreed with the idea. For the dangers it held.

" We need to escape from Dema Tyler"


	3. Flower 3

" We need to escape from Dema, Tyler" Josh seemed to illuminate even more so, if that was possible, after uttering these words. Tyler paused. The way they had been thrown out of the confines of his mouth made them hold nothing but recklessness. A tether to a fool's dream. He shifted in his seat, unsure. It sounded impossible, stupid. The Necropolis vultures were always waiting for friendly foes to serve them food on silver platters. This was serving them supper with golden cutlery. He felt his hands go to his neck just at the thought of those vile birds.

" Josh, " He started off with a tone that anybody could tell had been constructed by anxiety and doubt in a perfect partnership, " you do understand it's impossible to escape right?"

" Yes. That's what I first thought" Josh still kept an excited childish smile on his face. Like a kid opening presents on a christmas day. Tyler glanced around at the people passing and leaving, making sure none of them stored the secret information this conversation held. The last thing Tyler needed was for the bishops to come down and make his life in Dema short. Well as short as it could be.

"At first?"

" Yeah there are ways of escape. There are exits around Dema" Josh explained, drawing it in the air, " One in the East, West, South, North, North-east, North-West South-East and South-West."

" And how do you know about this?"

" I found a map in the very back of my set of drawers. Obviously someone lived there before me," He leaned comfortably against the table as if this conversation was nothing but a casual talk about the weather. Tyler envied that ability, to relax about a situation that seemed so full of danger and horrible consequences. At the same time, however, he linked such relaxation to unawareness and hopeless dreaming. Caution was often a debatable trait. It held him back but sometimes it had good reason to," I'm guessing it was an escapee and by the looks of it, they succeeded." 

There was awkward silence, something that had constantly been avoided every time it came knocking on the duo's door. Their friendship was comfortable, silence had never been a thing that even existed within the confines of their speech. To Tyler, it felt like Josh's light was becoming overwhelming. He compared it to a light bulb. You give it too much energy, it will explode. He saw the same thing happening to his friend. It was a reckless idea that needed shutting down. Although it seemed too late for that. The idea had leeched onto Josh like a parasite and had grown. It was an illness that was too far forward to be cured.

Tyler groaned, putting his head in his hands. He wanted to end this conversation and walk home. He wanted to cut the useless string that bound Josh to this idea. What he didn't want was to break the other, to destroy the hope that had seemingly kept him going day to day instead of pleading to be fed to the vultures. He didn't want to be seen as rude or dismissive. Of course the outside world, despite being a fading memory, was a thought that often plagued his mind. The streets of Ohio were sorely missed. A family or life outside was a desire. The choice hurt his brain.

" How did we go from talking about your hair to this?" Tyler asked with an exasperated look on his face as he finally came back from the darkness within his hands. Maybe a casual topic change was in order. Josh's face seemed to be fading of his happiness. He obviously thought that Tyler would agree instantly. The lack of support and enthusiasm painfully had shot doubt into his head. Tyler shifted uncomfortably in his seat - the intention to harm Josh's hopes never existed in the first place.

" Well I mean breaking small rules in Dema is a first step to building confidence to escape... I thought" the other shrugged," I'm trying to see the problem from all angles. Not just the doubtful ones."

" But where would we go if we escaped? There's no life outside Dema. How would we survive?"

" Tyler... I found this map. This map means someone has escaped. Would it be a stretch to think that there are people out there?"

Tyler hadnt touched his food. He was full. Full of fear and worry. Dema was a nightmare yes. He didn't doubt it. The jurisdiction and rules he had to endure every day and the hardened conditions when trying to work and make a living - or well distract himself from his demons - were tiring and depressing. It honestly made him feel like he was dying each day. Services of Vialism often wiped his memories of joy and happiness to something more sinister and controlling. He knew it and Josh knew it. The bishops wanted complete control over the poor victims in Dema. 

However, as much as Dema was the literal incarnation of living hell, was escaping really worth it? He would die eventually at some point - inside or outside of Dema. What was the point? The risks were too huge and the stakes were high. Another thing eating away at his mind was the bishops. No one knew their true capabilities.

" I want freedom as much as you do Josh" Tyler lowered his voice even more than it already was. He couldn't believe what he had allowed himself to say, " but we need to have a look at all the risks first. What's the point in trying to escape if you get caught?"

" I guess.... It would put all the hard work to waste" Josh sighed, finishing up on his food, " but hey a little risk would be worth it. It's already starting an adventure."

Tyler threw the remains of the food in the bin. He gave a small smile and nodded at Josh before lumbering his backpack over his shoulder.

" I'll see you tomorrow at the towers Josh" 

" Wait Tyler" He just wanted to leave. This conversation was tainted and it made his insides twist with anxiety. The male shuddered to think of the consequences with the forever present and invincible "ifs" and "whens". He turned around half way, just enough so Josh could see his face.

" Think about it please. This place is killing you and me a little more everyday. I want us both to be free from that."

" I.." Tyler sighed. He was a reckless fool who had grabbed the tether with josh and was making a noose with it to hang round his neck. The idea making him cold like death does to its victims.

" Yeah I'll think about it"


	4. Flower 4

He slipped on the cool fabric that felt smooth against his skin as he pulled the grey jumper on. Many citizens in Dema wore the same thing or similar clothings with the same grey colour. Today was an important day. He had to be dressed in his best, brown hair combed neatly and had to be out of his district on time. It was Sunday and time for a ritual.

Rituals were getting more important this time of year as the assemblage of the glorified was coming up. It happened once a year and was a day to celebrate the lives of those who had passed in Dema. The sad tales of those who had lost hope and ended it all and those who lived long lives under Vialism. The first definition was the ultimate truth that both Tyler and Josh harboured and they were able to polarize the fabrications from reality in the rituals and their purpose. It was also one of the only times where so many broken people were in the same room. 

Tyler hated this time of year. Mourning people whom nobody knew or cared for in life. Only glorifying them - loving and cherishing them - now that they had committed a heroic act in the name of Vialism. After all vialism was a disease of a religion. It promoted silence - never speaking out and keeping to your tasks to distract you from emotion. It wasn't having dreams or feeling or opinions. It was wanting death and accepting death to be noticed - to be celebrated.It was letting the bishops' teachings control you. It was letting yourself be possessed by negativity and not care as it was the norm. It was ignorance.

No one but Tyler and Josh - maybe a few others of those in different districts - knew this truth. Ignorance is bliss, Tyler thought, as this knowledge often plagued him. Every time a bishop passed, he would shudder. He would always think differently about others who thought to highly of Dema.

The brunette wasn't always like this. He used to love Dema. It was a place that distracted him from his thoughts and welcomed him. He felt part of something. The small things like supporting Vialism were just a small price to pray for this paradise. But upon meeting Josh and coming to several realisations, Tyler soon found out that wasn't the case and misery consumed him.

Sometimes, he would wonder if the bishops had caught ahold of the little light he held and tried to keep secret. They always seemed particularly interested in him and would always either make his suffering worse ( by letting the negativity they threw on him to control him, smothering his every living moment) or they would ask to talk to him personally - fill his head with lies. They would try seem like they cared for him and they would tell him that they were the only people that knew him and cared him. That everyone else hated him or that his workload wasn't good enough. They would spread that message by making conditions in working different - depending on what negativity they wanted to inflict unknowingly.

Tyler had Josh though and with Josh around, his little light of truth could not be diminished. Josh seemed to pull him back to reality. Josh seemed out of Dema's control, out of the bishops' grasp. For that, Tyler was grateful.

As he closed his door and listened as nothing but silence consumed the grey courtyard, he caught site of Josh. It was hard not to really - his yellow hair was like waving a red cloak in front of a bull. To Tyler, it was like watching the sun rise on a dreary day. He walked to josh, getting into queue to walk into the main towers in the middle, the churches where these rituals took place.

The path to line up was outlined and lit up by white neon lights, a sign that the brainwashing had begun. The neon lights were important to the rituals. The bishops' danced around them or muttered cult-like chants. Tyler liked to think that the light was fake and a sign of how fake this life was, the life he was living. Of course, how they helped brainwash someone was only a sensation to be described.

It was like a warning sign that this was the point of no return. You wouldn't be the same when you come back out. Whether you forgot another memory, was gifted by a bishop or had something attached to you mentally, like feathers to wax. The only difference was that these feathers and wax didn't create an invention to freedom - like told in the myths - in fact they didn't create a useful invention at all. They created a weapon, a machinery specialising in self torture.

The line was slowly disappearing into the dark doors as more people seemed to not heed the secretive warnings. The brunette wanted to break out and run - he wanted to tear himself away from the bishops until the strings snapped and worry could be shot down with one bullet, cascading to the floor like a bird being hit with a stone.

" Hey Josh." Tyler asked in a whisper, in order not to be heard. Not like anyone would grass them up, everyone had their brain shackled to their own world. " How do you deal with Sunday Ritual?"

" As in?"

" You know, retaining your memories."

" Depends man. Sometimes I'll just think about the memory over and over so it's strong enough to not slip away. I can't exactly close my eyes, they'll smear me otherwise."

The two shuddered thinking about the smearings. It was a way for the bishops to assert more control over the people of Dema - mainly those who disobeyed and tried to break free. They allowed the bishops to control you and know where you are. They heightened anxieties and negativities so they were visible. So people could see vulnerability creep up on your skin, literally. If the smearings ever increased or became too much - people became lost. People became a Blurryface and their fate was, like so many others who worshipped Vialism, to choke on the silence and their overworking brain until the died. 

Tyler and Josh had never received smearings.

Yet.

" But doesn't that make it easier for the ritual to grasp the memory?" The male groaned, knowing he wasn't going to get a solution

" I don't know." Josh shrugged," it works for me. Maybe it's different for everyone?"

" Well that's great advice, fantastic. I would totally recommend you to help anyone, Josh William Dun" Tyler countered sarcastically and Josh laughed. Despite the draining experience ahead, talks like this kept morale up and hope somewhat existent. After all, in a place like this, such concepts had their necks snapped and trampled upon.

" Shutup, I'm brilliant at advice."

" You know I'm not going to back down from this Josh, I'm stubborn and I mean it."

" Ok no Tyler seriously, be quiet before the bishops catch us. We're going in."

"Oh! Right. God, if only there were a way out"

Josh did not reply him but Tyler knew Josh was giving him that knowing look. 

That there was a way out.

And Tyler still needed to consider that.


	5. Flower 5

They called it the church. In actuallity, no one knew what these cylinder towers were in Dema. They were a place that represented each bishop in strength. Maybe the place where the bishops lived too. It was a place where the rituals started and everyone was forced to watch. These rituals were for the sake of Vialism. So really, maybe it was a church. 

Tyler wasn't any closer to finding out that anyway. If he ever played detective, that would be the last thing he would investigate. The brunette hated Sunday rituals - in fact he just hated the idea of rituals in general. He hated the cold wooden benches they would have to sit upon. He hated the grey columns making shadows so big you wondered if a demon was following you. He hated the neon lights. Most of all, Tyler hated the bishops. Their pale white faces covered in a black veil that made you feel as if they were seperated from this world. The piercing red eyes that perfectly complimented the long red cloak they wore to conceal more than secrets and more than lies.

It was dark as they all soundlessly walked in. The only thing illuminating this room were the neon lights around that cryptic statue. The bishops hadn't entered yet - they were the last ones to enter always. Everyone seemed to look as though they felt nothing. The air always felt numb. Tyler could never tell if they were numb with acceptance or numb with despair. Or if it was that dreaded i word - ignorance.

He was always seated far away from Josh, although it wasn't his idea. Josh said no one would suspect their secret alliance but the brunette knew for a fact that the most important people, if they even were people, suspected them.

Who in Dema would care about an alliance unless they were the bishops?

The bench was cold as normal and Tyler hated that. It added to the chilling atmosphere that gripped onto your body and never let go. You were dead - lifeless - even though you were alive. Nobody noticed though. They just piled onto the bench and sat next to Tyler, not even shivering as they stared forward. Robots. Puppets. That's all Tyler could describe them as. Devoid of happiness, feeling. Chasing their dreams away and individuality in order to fall in line for the bishops who had welcomed them.

Dema wasn't a welcoming place.

Everyone sat for a while, silent, and this gave Tyler time to look around for his yellow haired friend. Josh was staring straight forward, although he seemed not to be focused. The male could tell Josh was already reciting his technique to make a memory strong enough not to leave but then how could Josh predict which memory would be taken next? Tyler could also tell Josh was nervous - he tapped his pale fingers against his arm.

The mahogany doors creaked open but no light was let in. The sun never shone in Dema, it was always trapped by a prison cell of clouds. Everyone continued to stare forward as if no door had been opened in the first place. As much as Tyler wanted to turn around and see the expression on the cloaked horrors' faces, he had to play along.

Someone was bound to feel the wrath of a bishop for not oiling the hinges of the doors properly.

They glided to the front, Nico in ahead of them all, like ghosts. The difference was that these creatures were not ghosts - they were demons wrapped with a view of sophistication and carefully stitched together with the art of concealing and roots of an evil that could only be seen through the largest of lenses.

Once at the front, the calamity begun. First the bishops pulled into the middle what looked like a mix between a smoky cauldron and a birdbath although Tyler doubted the vultures in the necropolis would go anywhere near it's violent insides. Then out of what looked like an oven, a bishop pulled out a light bulb that was glowing dimly but was red at the tips. They danced around the cauldron but it looked more like a red blur and Tyler felt himself grow numb just watching. 

They pulled out glass tubes from within the abysmal depths of the cauldron and used the yellow light bulb to seal the tubes and give them colour. A creation of hell manifested as the result. More neon lights, glowing harsher then ever. They infected the simplicity of glass into something that would reach a jagged hand into Tyler's brain and rip out whatever happiness he had.

They quickly arranged the neon lights into a shape and then danced around it. Their mutterings were soundless as well as their synchronised movement. It was like watching perfection. A material false perfection. It was the silence and speed that was unnerving. They really did seem like creatures from another world and Tyler wouldn't be surprised.

The male felt himself lose a grip on reality around him. He felt as if he was no longer the brain in his body that sent the electrical signals of vital life to his organs. Everything around him became blurred - even the comforting speck of yellow that was Josh's hair. Dizziness was seeping its way into his head and it was bringing it's over-nauseating friends of dread and fear. The brunette felt like the soul, or blood that gave warmth to his figure, was being drained out of him.

He didn't understand how people could tolerate this, could worship this pain. His thoughts were becoming a train wreck as a numb feeling continued to drill it's its way for dominance of his emotions and a few shards of fear, sadness, loneliness and doubt joined in too.

This ritual lasted half an hour. Or to correct that, this torture lasted half an hour but it seemed like decades. Never-ending. What scared Tyler was he couldn't remember what he had forgot. It was really the question of did he forget anything at all?

Nico raised a hand - the bishops didn't talk but somehow the people of prison knew exactly what Nico meant. The miserable, dull eyes moved away from the performance that had ended in front of them and moved to the door as they got up and started to leave. It amazed Tyler that everyone could understand a thing that seemed more of an enigma than anything else here. 

He too, scrambled up to get out. It was a work period next. In this period those that inhabited Nico's and Keons' district would work together. It was the only working time Tyler could talk to his companion. They needed to talk anyway.

Urgently.

As his doe brown eyes followed the flame of yellow that was quickly moving out the room and trying to get to him, Tyler heard a raspy voice.

 _ **"Dun"**_  It said and Tyler turned to look at a petrified Josh who had halted his movement. He knew he couldn't escape the bishops wanting to see him. Tyler knew that all too well anyway.

It was Keons that was speaking - an unreadable expression on his face.

_**"You stay here."** _


	6. Flower 6

The whole two work periods went by without word or appearance of Josh. There was no bright haired friend to be like the sun that gave everyone warmth and company. There was no contagious smile. There was no reckless enthusiasm. There were no dreams or stories to attach to his worries like a balloon - and fly them out of the stratosphere to never be seen again. Tyler, for the first time since before he met Josh, was completely and utterly alone. The brunette didn't like it

Without Josh and his hair like the sun, Tyler found himself gripping for dear life on a wooden raft that was falling apart in a deep and dangerous ocean. Every few moments he would slip under and choke on everything the bishops were trying to consume him with. There were times where he was starting to get dragged under and was drowning.

He felt numb. He felt scared and upset. He felt miserable.

The world seemed to blur and fade around him, edges occasionally tinting red with static. He kept mindlessly working away until his pen and paper seemed to disappear from view in front of him - consumed by a black void. This void was cold and dark and it felt like Tyler was drifting meaninglessly. He couldn't focus and his mind was getting further soaked by this feeling. These lackluster but overwhelming emotions.

Tyler couldn't even hear the cawing of ravens as he worked with a weighed down heart and mind.

The clock seemed off the wall and numbers felt meaningless as it whizzed away - high on some invisible, non-existent drug. Colours and places seemed to have water poured onto their pallettes, making everything mix and rush together. His body was acting by itself but his heart and mind was else where. Was this what death felt like? Was his time up? Had the disappearance of Josh created a hammer which had bludgeoned his intricate clock to pieces? He couldn't see. It was just him in darkness. Dema didn't exist. The bishops didn't exist. Josh didn't exist. All that existed was this black meaningless void. That's all that was left for him. Whatever the hell time even was - seemed to pass without second thought. Quicker than a heartbeat. 

**“11988?”**

A rough hand on his shoulder and an almost silent but hoarse voice brought him back out of this void; like a chain wrapped around his neck and dragging him unwillingly but gratefully. Tyler blinked, his page was full of the normal full scribblings that was his task to do. The thing that used to bring him joy. The thing that made him feel part of Dema and made him feel proud to serve his bishop. These scribblings were the philosophy of the bishops and Vialism. That was Tyler's job.

His doe eyes flickered to survey the room. Everyone else had left. A clock with broken hands was on the wall but if you listened faintly, a ticking noise was trying to make its way out. The white-washed walls had shadows casting in their features. His pale hand was curled tightly around the pen and turning white at the tips from the severity of the grip.

The brunette twisted his head to the side to see who it was. Keons and his kind eyes were staring back but Tyler knew better. This was the creature that had dragged Josh here - this dismal prison. This was the creature that took Josh away. He wanted to shake Keons' hand off his shoulder, scream and shout at the bishop however instead he remained silent and still. Exhaustion was seeping its way into his mental state and his bones. So was the fear of being found out, punished. The fear of those white hands with black tips wrapping around his neck and smearing him.

 **“its break period”**  Keons reminded him.

Tyler just nodded, sat up from his chair and walked out, leaving the bishop to collect the papers. As normal, the door silently slammed shut, never disturbing anyone. Thoughts ran through the brunette's head as he morosely made his way to where him and Josh went to at break period. Just a little courtyard, overlooked but vast in space.

He didn't know what he was expecting. Josh wasn't there.

The harsh reality festered with him, that maybe Josh had been leading Tyler on all this time. Maybe Josh was doing this all as a cruel joke. Maybe Josh had already left without him.

But then came the possibility of the bishops. Keons was Josh's allocated bishop but surely if Keons wanted to speak to josh, then he wouldn't be overseeing the work period straight after?

Break felt like a few seconds before Tyler was back in that same room, a continuation of writing the very thing he disagreed with. Two work periods passed and Tyler had lost feeling in his hand but it didn't compare to the loss of feeling in his heart and mind. A free period also passed in which said male sat around, filled with nothing. He would wander around, never wanting to venture back to his room filled with faceless demons that would await.

Lunch time came. It was the same task of searching for that bright speck of yellow in a hoard of brunettes, blondes, gingers, black-heads and red-heads. He sat on the modern but uncomfortable grey plastic chair as he tried to observe through the crowd; Josh wasn't there.

The brunette grabbed some food, not for himself as he had already eaten, and walked out the lunch hall as soon as free period transitioned in and the memories of a lonely lunch festered underneath his skin. Tyler walked down streets of identical houses that loomed over him, some vultures perching on the ledges and staring him down. This time he wouldn't be reduced to anxiety and dust on the ground.

All the houses looked the same. It was a surprise he didn't stumble into the wrong one but that was the fickle thing about friendship. Everything could look the same but you could find the difference if someone you cared about showed you how. For example, how Tyler remembered that Josh's house didn't have vultures on it. That Josh always had the curtains closed. That the grey walls of his home had specks of black and white in to distinguish his abode.

Tyler knocked on the mahogany brown but concrete feeling door. The pressure of his hand just leaning against it caused it to drift open smoother than waves in a calm ocean.

The suffocating sound of silence was replaced with the agonising sound of crying. Josh crying. Hit by a lightning bolt of nervous energy - Tyler bolted inside, stopping at the only but main room to see Josh. Against the wall. Crying. 

And Tufts of yellow hair on the floor.

|-/

A raven cawed outside the window where Tyler had worked. It was a surprise that the unnaturalness of the noise and the animal hadn't caught anyone's attention. Ravens never came to Dema. Dema was a home for the Vultures, their grounds the necropolis. It's smooth black feathers were neat and wavering in the serene breeze that floated by. It's eyes seemed glassy but purposeful - like it was determined to carry out one function as storm clouds rolled in and the air was possessed by a bitter frost and the smell of water.

The obnoxious noise it was making was too much.

Anger surged through him as he jabbed his scorpion pincer around the neck of the bird, beady eyes studying it as he now held it by the neck in his pale white hands.

Yes he was a scorpion that spread poison to the people of Dema. But all poisons have a cure. He could never allow that.

His face was expressionless and curiosity or examination was fluid in his movements as his grip on the neck tightened only a little, in order not to kill it but keep it from escaping. His red cloak floated around the rim as the breeze twirled into a gust that barged through windows unwelcomed. An electric razor was in his free hand.

Nico walked off as the raven stopped singing, struggling in his hands.

The vultures would be having a treat tonight.


	7. Flower 7

The sun that had once resided in josh and his yellow coloured hair had gone down, deciding to say goodbye and sleep. Only for 12 hours. It wouldn't be gone for long. It was the moon's time to rise up and show its face as well as countless twinkling subjects. It would spend it's 12 hours dancing around before it would go down, being swallowed by the horizon, and the sun would yawn and be in dominance again.

If only it were like that. If only hope grew within 12 hours.

The yellow streaks of sunshine hair had been scattered all across the floor like someone had taken an axe and hit at the sun until it shattered into shards. The atmosphere was chilling as Josh cried and Tyler sat helplessly next to him, wondering what had gone on. Why this penance? All Josh had done was a harmless dye of the hair. The bishops hadn't seemed to mind when he dyed it red - to show he honoured and served them. Maybe that was it though. Tyler had warned Josh that the bishops didn't like anything unorthodox. They also despised the colour yellow; hated it. It was mainly because they couldn't see it but not in the way most of you may think. 

With red hair, you were representing the bishops and their cloaks of bloodless secrecy. Even though Dema mainly consisted of grey and neon white, red became an omen of the bishops. If you were a dreaming escapee like Tyler and Josh, it was a threat. Maybe that's why Josh had changed his hair colour to yellow in recent events, because red felt like a threat and there was no worse threat than one from and on yourself.

To anyone, the scatters of yellow hair on the floor wouldn't have been trivial enough to cause a flood of tears. This, however, was different. This was hope - something that you could look in the mirror to see in the morning and watch a small act of rebellion survive and ignite hopes, growing into what would be a full fledged rebellion. He had started small and the bishops had shot him down. The brunette understood that the hope of escaping had been blown out like a flame on a candle because the bishops would most indefinitely find out. Not only that but after this, they would keep tabs of a rogue Deman starting to go astray.

Vultures could be heard flapping their humongous wings outside. It was probably their feeding time and judging by the frenzy, Tyler could tell they had been given a treat at the necropolis.

That wasn't the only sound. Sniffles from next to him signalled that Josh was stopping crying. Or well trying to stop himself from crying. His eyes were glazed over with brimming emotion and his body contained small tremors that only those who were upset could manifest.

It felt wrong. 

When did this place become a prison? When did everything that seemed persistent of home become the cage with a key thrown away? The dreaded i word comes into mind again at the thought.

"They told me to stay low." Doe eyes looked over to see glassy coffee ones. It seemed like Josh's thoughts had escaped over the hurdle of Dema and was outside because his expression seemed far away.

"Will you kneel to their concepts?"

No answer

" Are they watching you?"

Again no answer. And that's how it was for the next few days. 

Silence was agonising already but Josh committing to silence was worse. Work went by soundlessly then followed by break. Lunch seemed serene like death itself had walked into the room. Tyler couldn't tell whether his friend had given up or if the cogs in his brain were working once again on another plan. The latter was an improbable option, after all when your confidence was knocked it took a while for its solid structure and integrity to be built back up.

He was pretty sure that the bishops had sapped nearly every last ounce of confidence Josh had in him.

He was pretty sure that was why his friend was nervously glancing around and staying silent.

Tyler was pretty sure that's why his friend didn't speak or attempt to show in any way that some part of him was fine.

It was not the thing he wanted to be sure in but the odds were against Tyler this time. Rebellion started to seem hopeless and that tether to a balloon like dream he had once grabbed had now turned into a noose. It was slowly killing him, suffocating the dreams and hope out of him.

And thus weeks passed.

Everything stayed quiet.

Bishops always kept a close eye on josh, now knowing his mindset well enough.

Tyler went on with his life, forgot they ever talked about escape - like the past should've been. Josh seemed to pretend so anyway. They often sat in the courtyard, looking up at the sky or making small talk. There was a distance now. That distance had been caused by fear and Tyler had no idea how to help. What the bishops had said to Josh. What Nico had said to josh.

What had that bishop plagued his friend's mind with?

The brunette was currently in his dull room. The curfew was in act, he had to stay in his room. Try to sleep - or stay awake if the demons got too much for his brain to handle. It was deadly silent and a new fresh wave of hopelessness and insecurity washed over him. Rain pattered against the window as a stormy breeze rushed into the room. He didn't shiver, his bones were already cold and numb. 

The walls outside seemed to grow taller every day, seemed to block out the sunlight. Was freedom ever a viable option? Could they ever be free from the bishops?

Maybe, maybe that thought wasn't his to think.

Maybe escaping wasn't his purpose.


	8. Flower 8

_Tap tap tap_

He pressed the keys on the typewriter and, with each print of every perfectly moulded letter, the page would move a little more to the left until a bell would be heard. Then he would remove the paper, put it back in its original position, then start the whole process again. The ink was always perfect. That shade of black that you felt could swallow you whole. How it never smudged the pristine white paper it created words on. The sharpness and accuracy of each word stamped onto the page, like it was certain that was the word it was meant to fit. Like remaining there forever was it's only purpose in life.

It could truly be satisfying... If the words being printed on it werent nothing short of pain, deceit and misery. If Vialism and Dema philosophy weren't painful.

Despite its perfections, it felt almost wrong to write with. And so, behind closed mahogany doors and curtained windows, Tyler would grab his little notebook with its black leather cover. He would grab a bottle of that abysmal black ink and a feather quill - the only thing he could write with apart from a typewriter. Some would call his scribblings journal entries or poetry, Tyler would regard it as lyrics.

He would often write a solid pathway that bulldozed down the walls that kept his mind trapped in Dema. He could, if he wanted to, transport himself to a whole different world completely. One better than this.

_Tap tap tap_

The vultures always were hungry. Always tapping on the window as if expecting for someone to get up from their work - their hole in the paper - and somehow produce a dead mouse or rat for it to chomp happily on. For it to be able to feast on by itself, not for its fellows to come flying about in a frenzy at the prospect of food. As impossible as it would be that someone here had been collecting dead vermin for death's trusted pets, it would be impossible to get up to feed the vultures anyway. A bishop always kept watch of them, to make sure they were working efficiently and serving their bishop with pride.

So he would have to deal with the annoyingly insistent tapping against the window pane.

Shame, it would be a nice enough beat to imagine music ( _tap tap tap_ ) to if it didn't sound so desperate and out of place - out of rhythm. Soon enough, the bishop couldn't take this small act of defiant noise and he strode over, opening the window and hitting the vulture off its perch. Once again, the only tapping sound now was the typewriters. Tyler fell back into the hole that was gaping wide in the paper. Vialism, Vialism, stop to move the paper back to its original position, bishops, Vialism, philosophy, move the paper back and continue this pointless process all over again.

_tap tap tap_

They didn't have clocks to check the time here, that was a huge rule. In Dema, time was meaningless and ,if you wanted to arrange something or wanted to meet up, you would have to rely on your hopefully correct perception of morning, mid-day, noon, dusk and evening. In a sense it gave that patience. No clock was ticking away and judging how early or late you were. At first, it seemed like a gift which relieved anxiety. Those who still believed this place was paradise and not a prison would claim it was the bishops teaching them patience - a highly valued virtue. The cynics and the experienced would merely scoff and leave those hopefuls to be disappointed in the naïve department. Although truth be told, the experienced were isolated from the rest of this society. Shamed upon, rumoured about and avoided with a distinct hatred that came from illogical tradition. Not having clocks made it seem like a prison. You had no idea how many days that went by - no concept of how long you had been here. It could drive you insane and remove the hope of the cycle ever breaking. 

There had been many a time where Tyler forgot to celebrate his own birthday and had to be reminded by Josh, whom definitely seemed on the ball in terms of timings and what not. He constantly encouraged to keep at least a tally on the walls or in a notebooks so he truly didn't go insane or, at least, forget his own day that was meant to make him happy.

What was there to be happy about when growing another year older in here? Traped, diminished, miserable and hopeless.

_tap tap tap_

The sound of walking on this cobble path was actually one of the few favourites he had in Dema. It reminded him of the word ancient and mystic. Within those two words he found himself wondering of secrets and adventures beyond his little room in Dema. The pathway itself wasn't special as he walked. Merely the same old grey colour. Occasionally it would lead onto flat cement paths but around the districts, they were always cobble. It wasn't holy vialist ground. The pebbles, if that's what they once were, were always the same boring square shape and always similar in the same shade of grey. It scared him that he could tell shades of grey apart with ease especially when to an outsider those shades would look the same.

Other sounds he enjoyed included the sound of pen scribbling on paper, like the small notebook he had hidden away in his drawers under his normal clothes in case the bishops ever came in to do a blessing and found his thoughts that they would consider array. Tyler had to keep his thoughts hidden. They were enough to get him smeared or fed to the vultures probably.

_tap tap tap_

Everything was awfully silent here and everyone tried to abide by that silence. Serve their bishops who endorsed silence as a currency and the oxygen they needed to breathe. Some communications, like Josh knocking on the door right now, required sound. The bishops let it slide if you did it in a somewhat quiet manner. That's why the knocks were reduced to secretive taps.

He has to oil his door frequently so the hinges didn't creak when he opened and let Josh inside his apartment. Thinking back to creaky hinges, the brunette can't help but wonder the fate of whomever had forgot to oil the doors for that ritual. Oil is one thing they provide all citizens in the draw when they first arrive. Oiling their door hinges, every single one, and window hinges was the first task you were forced to do here.

"Settling in" they called it

_tap tap tap_

He loved that sound. It was different from the others in Dema that some would say sounded exactly the same.

_tap tap tap_

It was a steady flow, a steady rhythm that accompanied his quiet whispers.

_tap tap tap_

It was someone who loved and breathed music with every fibre of their being. Someone who lived a melody just like him.

_tap tap tap_

It was the sound of drumming sticks from the courtyard onto his bedside table whilst he spoke the lyrics of his heart and soul.

_tap tap tap_

that was the sound of the ever so talented Joshua Dun.


End file.
